Follow
Chapters
Share
Love in Disguise  Novel Cover

Love in Disguise

"What! The real Javier Mortis is your boyfriend?" ....................................................... In a whirlwind of being looked down on and desire, Amanda's life takes a thrilling turn when she fabricates a story at her high school reunion about dating a wealthy boyfriend named Javier. Enter Javier Mortis, the heir to the prestigious Mortis empire, who will stop at nothing to uncover the truth about the mysterious woman who claims him as her own. As he disguises himself as an ordinary worker to draw closer to Amanda, he finds himself swept away by an unexpected romance. But what happens when the truth finally comes to light, will their love be strong enough to overcome the betrayal, or will it tear them apart forever?
Chapters
Share

Chapter 3

I stood by the refreshment table, my fingers trembling slightly as I poured myself a glass of sparkling water. The room around me buzzed with animated conversations, laughter floating in the air like a sweet melody.

I absentmindedly watched the groups of familiar faces, reminiscing about the long-gone days when carefree innocence ruled my life, and social expectations were merely whispers in the background.

"Dr Anderson! You still working those long hours at the hospital?" a voice chimed. It was Rachel, a girl who had always held court at our lunch tables, gliding through life with an enviable grace.

Rachel was radiant, her skin glowing, her laughter infectious. She had everything I had ever dreamed of; a flourishing career, a stunning fiancé, and what appeared to be a flawless existence. I managed to smile, my cheeks stretching uncomfortably.

"Yes, the ER is pretty hectic," I replied, the words feeling shallow even as they left my lips. Rachel's eyes sparkled with curiosity, the kind that poked at my already fragile ego.

"Still single?" Rachel asked, tilting her head slightly, her smile wavering just a fraction.

"The single doctor who can barely manage her own love life!" Tiara, a former cheer captain, teased, her laughter bright and piercing. It was playful, lighthearted, the kind of jest that was familiar and yet stung in a place I wished was impervious.

"Or still on the dating apps?" chimed in Michelle, another classmate, as the two exchanged conspiratorial glances. Their demeanour, while playful, felt like armour concealing their own vulnerabilities.

It was easy for me to project my fears onto them, constructing a narrative where their jibes masked envy rather than affection. Caught off guard, I feigned a laugh, attempting to shrug off the comments with an ease I desperately wished were real.

"I'm just too busy saving lives," I replied, the words tasting like gall on my tongue. I could sense the edges of their laughter sharpening, and in that moment, I understood all too clearly how perceptions could twist in a room filled with old friends.

"Busy saving lives or busy being saved by someone special?" Tara's wink left me questioning whether my response had been effective at all.

The laughter around us faded momentarily as a silence fell, thick as cream. I felt heat rising to my cheeks, and the embarrassment coiling around me like a vine.

"Actually, I've been seeing someone for a few months now," I blurted out, the words spilling forth before I could gather my thoughts. I wasn't proud of the fib, but I needed to find a way to shield myself from the judgment I felt swirling in the air.

"Oh!" Rachel leaned in, eyebrows raised in delight.

"Do tell! What's he like?" In that instant, my mind raced. What could I say? I desperately clawed for a semblance of confidence, a morsel of bravado.

"Javier", the name spilled out of my mouth.

"Wait, THE JAVIER MORTIS?" someone asked, the surprise palpable.

My heart thudded as I nodded, the intrigue of my lie beginning to unravel in vivid colours. In my mind, I could see the image of him; tall, with kind eyes and an understanding smile.

It was an identity I invented on a whim, and for a fleeting second, it ignited excitement and thrill in my otherwise mundane evening. The chatter swirled around me, speculation crystallising into wild assumptions that fed the fiction I had constructed.

As my friends pushed for more details, I found myself embellishing story after story, crafting a whimsical relationship that existed only in my imagination.

With a nervous laugh, I replied, "He's kind of a big deal," before quickly changing the subject, hoping to divert the attention from my own shortcomings.

Inside, however, I felt a pang of guilt and shame. It was a mask, a facade I wouldn't be able to hold up for long.

I slumped against a pillar, a tepid feeling spreading through me as I recalled the guy I once loved, Mark. We had shared youthful dreams, our paths seemingly intertwined, but somewhere along the line, we had drifted apart.

Mark had found his place in the world, and what had I done? Let myself get swallowed whole by the hospital's fluorescent lights and the unyielding timelines demanded of me?

Just as the memories threatened to consume me, a warm voice broke through my reverie.

"Amanda, are you okay?"

Startled, I turned to see Kayla, my high school friend, staring at me with concern etched across her face. We had shared many adolescent secrets, often devouring slices of pizza on the bleachers, but we, too, had lost touch over the years.

"Uh, yeah, just lost in thought," I answered, forcing a smile, though it didn't reach my eyes. Kayla stepped closer, the warmth radiating from her presence providing a brief comfort.

"You look like you've seen a ghost. Come join us, everyone's reminiscing about those old days. You know how it is; 'remember when' stories."

Mentioning the words "remember when" felt like opening Pandora's Box. I was instinctively aware that my memories would swirl up in a storm, dredging old insecurities and regrets. As much as I wanted to escape the scrutiny, the swell of nostalgia tugged at me.

"Yeah, I should probably get back," I replied, trying to sound casual.

My mind wandered back to the classroom scenes of our past: the sloppy teenage crushes, the shared dreams, budding ambitions, and the naive belief that life would always go according to plan.

Now, the once innocent excitement felt tainted by painful reality. What had modified the lives of my peers so significantly while I remained stationary, painstakingly moving through each day only to repeat the same stories?

Among the group, I caught sight of Emily, a former high school rival whose achievements had always shadowed my own. She had pursued medicine with the same fervour, but upon branching into specialities, she had quickly climbed the social ladder within the medical community.

To me, every triumph Emily shared was a confirmation of my own inadequacies, an overwhelming reminder that I was not measuring up.

"Wow, look at you all living it up!" Emily's voice cut sharply through the crowd, her bright smile forced, but her eyes a little too calculating.

"I've just returned from an international seminar in Paris, can you believe it? And I'm about to launch my very own clinic."

The applause and chorus of "Wow!" echoed around, slicing deeper into my skin. I fought against the urge to withdraw entirely as the laughter and praises flowed. Why did it feel like life had turned us into competitors? A race I had not even wanted to join.

Suddenly, an old flame entered my line of sight...

You may also like

After He Abandoned Me At The Altar For Her Novel Cover
8.2
I gave up my New York socialite status to live with my husband in a basement for seven years. On our wedding day, he abandoned me to attend a christening party with Brooke and her son. While everyone laughed at my expense, he updated his Instagram feed with the caption: "Loving you brings joy to Mom and Dad." The photos showed him, Brooke, and their son looking like a perfect family. I commented sarcastically, "Congrats. Permanently sealed." Armed with the DNA test results, I filed for divorce. But later, he showed up with red-rimmed eyes, kneeling before me, pleading for me not to leave. Christian finally called after three days of complete silence. Before I could say anything, a woman's voice filled the line: "Elianna, I'm truly sorry. I've been feeling down; the past couple of days marked the anniversary of my husband's death." "Christian was so concerned about me that he missed the wedding." "I’ve already talked to him about it." "And the post was meant to comfort me; he has deleted it now, so please don't take offense." The woman turned towards him: "Christian, honestly, the wedding was a significant event; how could you leave like that?" "We're adults now, let’s not behave like kids throwing tantrums, alright?" "I could spoil you for a lifetime. Can Elianna do that?" "Come on, let's set a date for a proper ceremony.
Betrayal at the Altar Novel Cover
9.7
The Grand Ballroom of the Ritz-Carlton glittered with champagne flutes and camera flashes. I smoothed down my custom Valentino gown—a sleek ivory column with subtle crystal beading that caught the light with every movement. The engagement party I'd spent months planning was finally happening. "Ms. Rivera, the photographer from Vogue wants to know if you'd mind posing by the fountain," my assistant whispered, her eyes wide with excitement. I nodded, allowing myself a moment of satisfaction. Everything was perfect—the orchid centerpieces flown in from Thailand, the champagne tower, the guest list that read like a Who's Who of business and society. All for Castiel and me. "Five minutes until the announcement, Fiona," Marcus Rivera, my father's trusted lawyer and our family friend, appeared at my elbow. "Your father sends his regrets again—the merger talks in Tokyo couldn't be rescheduled." "He'll see the photos tomorrow," I said, twisting the diamond ring Castiel had given me three weeks ago.
Divorce After 999 Days Novel Cover
9.2
I checked my watch for the twentieth time in two hours. 7:45 PM. The candle at my table had burned down halfway, the flame flickering like my dwindling hope. Around me, couples leaned toward each other across white tablecloths, sharing whispered conversations and laughter that felt like a mockery of my solitude. "Would you like me to refill your water, Mrs. Sterling?" The waiter approached with practiced sympathy, his eyes betraying pity I couldn't bear. "Yes, please." I forced a smile. "And my husband will be here any minute." The same lie I'd been telling for the past hour and a half. As he walked away, I reached for my phone again, scrolling through our text messages. *On my way.
He Loved Her, Not His Wife Novel Cover
9.4
For five years, I was the ghost in my billionaire husband's mansion. I accepted his coldness, believing the ruthless tech mogul was simply incapable of love. That lie shattered when I saw him abandon a ten-billion-dollar merger to kneel on a dirty police station floor and tie his mistress's shoelace. His cruelty escalated. He had me dragged from a surgical table to cook for her. He let her destroy my life's work, then held me down as she sliced my hands with the broken marble. To appease her, he forced me to pick up broken glass from a pool with my bare hands, my blood clouding the water as the party guests watched in silence. He wasn't incapable of love. He was just incapable of loving me. But in her final act of humiliation, his mistress made a fatal mistake. Thinking she was signing a document to get rid of me, she used his legally binding personal seal and stamped our divorce papers. She thought she was ending me; instead, she set me free.
Pregnant When My Husband Chose Her Over Me Novel Cover
9.7
The pregnancy test sat on the bathroom counter, two pink lines stark against white plastic. Six weeks. I pressed my palm against my still-flat stomach, feeling nothing but the wild flutter of my own heartbeat. Adrian's baby. The thought should have terrified me—we'd only been married eight months, and his memory was still returning in fragments—but instead, warmth spread through my chest. He'd been so gentle since the accident, so devoted. My former academic rival, the man who'd once made my blood boil with his smug superiority, now made me breakfast and called himself my "house husband" with that crooked smile. I needed to update our insurance. Add the baby. Make it official.
Rising From Ashes: The Matriarch's Spectacular Comeback Novel Cover
7.9
I woke up in a burning warehouse, twelve years after my supposed death. My body had been reset to its physical prime, the deep burn scar on my wrist completely gone. Through the smoke, my eldest son, Kennard, rushed blindly into the flames. He was screaming the name of the very woman who had orchestrated this trap—Brittnie. When I tackled him out of the way of a falling steel beam, he didn't recognize my youthful face. Instead, he pinned me to the concrete and nearly crushed my windpipe. "How much did she pay you to carve up your face to look like a dead woman?" He hissed the words at me, treating me like a sick corporate spy. For a decade, a bizarre narrative "script" had brainwashed my son, forcing him into pathetic devotion to Brittnie. She had drained his wealth, turned my daughter against him, and hollowed out our family empire. Whenever Kennard tried to resist her, the mind control punished him with agonizing migraines, driving him to smash his own hands against the wall just to cope with the pain. Hearing him quietly sobbing outside my locked door, my heart shattered. How could this invisible force torture my brilliant son and turn my family into puppets for a D-list actress? I dragged him to the hospital for a DNA test. When the results confirmed my maternity at 99.999%, the cold billionaire collapsed to the floor, weeping in my arms like a lost child. I wiped his tears and smiled ruthlessly. It was time to take back my empire and burn Brittnie's life to the ground.